Midnight Sins

“It’s certainly not what I’d call a normal bruise. Colin…” Smith pointed to McNeal. “Show him the pictures.”



Colin marched forward. Handed the case file to the captain.



“A normal bruise can appear after a vic’s death, but…” Smith rubbed her forehead. Todd snaked around the desk to get a better look at the pictures. “Bruises are generally of varying discolorations. This one is the exact same throughout. A perfect black outline.



There aren’t pressure marks, no damage beneath the surface of the skin.”



She stood up, walked over, and shoved her hand at Todd’s chest, hard. He grunted under the impact.



“When I hit him, I used the ball of my hand. It gives the most force. Or,” another shove, “I can push him back with the tips of my fingers. Just…not with as much power” A faint smile tilted the corners of her full lips. “Sorry, Brooks.”



“Don’t be, Smith. He deserved it.” The rumble came from Colin.



Smith had once joked easily with Colin. They’d been good friends. Now, she seemed to shut down at the sound of his voice, her smile fading instantly.



“Neither of those hits would leave a mark like the one found on House.” Her hand fell away from Todd. “Even if the perp were over the vic, shoving him down into the bed, it would have been a ball-of-hand contact. There is no scenario I can think of that would leave that perfect outline of a person’s hand.”



“Ah, shit.” McNeal’s fingers rubbed over his eyes. “Smith, I wish you’d give me this information first. I’ve told you time and again there is chain of command here and—”



“I put the file in your box long before I gave a copy to Gyth.” She raised a brow. “Have you checked your box, Captain?”



“I’ve been here since four a.m., stuck in a damn three-and-a-half-hour emergency meeting with the mayor and DA,” he snapped.



“So, no, Smith, I haven’t!”



“Well, next time, you should. Especially before you go growling at me about how to do my job! I know how to do my job!”



She was all but going across the desk at him as she nearly shouted her words, and the lady finally was acting like her old self.



McNeal leaned forward, eyes narrowed.



“McNeal. Smith.” It was Colin’s steely voice that broke the tension in the room.



Their furious faces immediately turned toward him. Colin cleared his throat, then said, “Captain, as you pointed out to me and Brooks, we really don’t have time for this shit.”



Touché.



Smith drew in a deep breath. Took a few steps back, then slowly lowered her body into the chair. “Are you going to be able to exhume the other two bodies?”



A hard shake of McNeal’s head. “DA will never go for even trying on the order. Especially if House isn’t going down as a homicide.”



“I checked House’s body, thoroughly.” She shook her head. “The man shouldn’t have died.”



The captain’s gaze darted to Colin.



Todd tensed when his partner gave an almost imperceptible nod. What the hell?



McNeal peered down at the files again. “Well, at least we damn well know the last vic—what was his name?”



“Thomas Monroe,” Todd supplied.



“Yeah, well, at least we know Monroe was murdered. Turn your focus onto him.”



They had been focusing on him, and the other dead men who kept turning up. “There were no prints on the knife, but we did retrieve a hair from the mattress.” A long strand of blond hair, and that fit because, “The desk clerk said a blond was there with Monroe.” Just like a blond had been in the other hotels with the other dead men.



But why the change in MO? It made no sense. If the perp was the same, why change methods now? Why change them at all?



“The press has gotten wind of the link in the murders.” Colin’s voice was quiet, tense. “That new reporter for News Flash Five, Holly Storm—”



So now he remembered her name.



“—she was at the House scene, too. Must’ve gotten there after we left. She talked to the desk clerk. Found out about the bondage, and now she knows about Monroe.”



“I saw the damn story at five last night,” McNeal muttered. “Shit. ‘ The cops aren’t talking, but rumors of the Bondage Killer are rampant on the streets…’ Hell. Like I needed that crap from her now.”



Todd winced. He’d also caught the redhead’s story, just like nearly every other person in the city.



Holly Storm had finally made her big splash on News Flash Five.



“Damn straight the cops aren’t talking.” McNeal rapped his fingers on the surface of the desk. “My team doesn’t talk.”



Well, there wasn’t exactly much to be talking about.



“All right. Here’s how this is going to be handled.” He stabbed a blunt finger in the air toward Todd. “You start digging into Monroe’s life. See what you can find out about any girlfriends, people with an ax to grind, whatever.”



He’d already been doing that. It wasn’t like he was a fresh-faced uniform who didn’t know how to handle a case.



The finger stabbed in Smith’s direction. “I want the completed autopsy report on Monroe ASAP.”



“Is there any sign of a print on his chest yet?” Todd asked quickly.



She shook her head. “The killer did a real number on his chest. Seventeen knife wounds.”



Now that was a lot of rage.



Usually that much rage was personal.



“Finish the autopsy. Get me the report.” McNeal’s gaze shot to Colin. “You talked to Dr. Drake about this case?”



“Last night.”



“Good.” He waved his hand toward the door. “That’s all—Smith, Brooks, you two can brief me later on your findings. Gyth, stay so we can talk.”



Smith opened her mouth as if to protest. Then she shook her head and mumbled, “I don’t think I want to hear this, anyway.” Then she marched for the door, head held high.



McNeal’s gaze followed her, and his lips pulled down into a small frown.



The door closed behind her with a soft click. No slam. No sign of fury.



But Todd knew she was angry.



Smith didn’t like being cut out of a case.



Neither did he.



But, unlike Smith, he wasn’t just planning to quietly walk out with his dignity.



Fuck dignity.



This was his case. He wasn’t going to be pushed to the wayside again. He was a good cop, damn it. He’d busted his ass for years on the force. Taken two bullets. Back when he’d been on beat, he’d even gotten one of the highest arrest rates on record for the city.



“That’s all for now, Brooks,” McNeal said gruffly. “I’ll update you on Dr. Drake’s findings later.”



Todd didn’t move. “I think I’ll just listen now. Save you from having to rehash it all later.”



McNeal blinked. “I said that’s all, Brooks.”



A clear dismissal.



He was tired of being dismissed, and after the morning he’d already had, he wasn’t about to back down.



My lover is a demon. I don’t really think these guys can surprise me with anything else after learning that fun fact.



Todd cast a glance at Colin. Found his partner watching him with a tense, worried expression. “After I talk to the captain, I’ll come and brief you,” Colin told him, voice quiet, but his eyes seemed to blaze a warning.



Colin was trying to save his ass, Todd realized. Going toe-to-toe with the captain probably wasn’t a good idea. Colin obviously thought it wasn’t, and now his partner was trying to smooth things over.



Pity he wasn’t in the mood for a nice, polite smoothing. He turned his attention back to the captain. “What don’t you want me to know about this case?”



McNeal smiled. A shark’s smile. “Oh, come on, now, Brooks, don’t be ridiculous! You’re completely in the loop on this case—”



And hell wasn’t hot.



“—I just thought your time would be better spent following other leads—”



“Like with the Night Butcher?” He tossed out.



The smile dimmed. “I don’t like your tone, Detective.”



“And I don’t like being kept in the dark.” He began to pace, unable to contain the swirling energy in his body. “I’m tired of feeling like I’m only catching half of the things happening in this precinct.” In the world. “I’m good at my job. Got enough commendations to plaster the damn wall at my apartment.” He stopped, right next to Colin. “I deserve to know what’s happening.”



“You don’t really want to know.” Colin’s voice.



He turn his head fractionally, just enough to meet his hard stare. “What don’t I want to know, partner? That this world of ours is fucking full of monsters? And that you’re one of them?”



Chapter 9



Silence.



Then, “How long have you known?” The question came from McNeal.



Colin just stared at him. His face was completely blank.



“Since the night Smith was taken. I followed Colin, long enough to see him change.”



Colin flinched.



Todd spared the captain a glance. “Then you called and demanded I come back.”



“Shit.” McNeal rubbed the top of his gleaming head. “I knew you were going after him, but I didn’t realize just how damn close you’d gotten.” McNeal glared at Colin. “How come you didn’t smell him? Hear him? You shifters are supposed to have such keen senses!”



“We do.” A growl.



“I watched from a good distance. Used night-vision binoculars.”



“His scent was already on me,” Colin said nearly a second later. “And that night, I was more focused on Other things.”



McNeal watched him with a hooded gaze. “So how much do you know?”



Not much. “I know werewolves are real—”



“Wolves? ” McNeal mumbled. “Fucking figures.”



Colin cleared his throat. “Ah, we’re generally called shifters—not werewolves.”



“—and that demons are, too. I know that place, Paradise Found, is some kind of meeting place for them all.” And that all this shit was still making his head spin. Because now he wondered…how many of the perps he’d busted over the years, how many of the people he’d met—had actually been human? And how many had been something more?



“So you know about your little girlfriend, huh?” Colin drawled.



Todd braced his legs apart as he confronted his partner. “Don’t push me, man. I don’t care how much fur you can grow or how sharp your claws are, I will take you down.” He wasn’t particularly afraid of the big, bad wolf, not anymore. The first, oh, two weeks, yeah, he’d been piss scared. But the fear had soon morphed into anger—anger because his partner should have told him the truth long ago



“You’re gonna take me down?” Colin shook his head. “Another partner tried that. He’s dead, and I’m still here.”



What?



“So how do you feel…knowing all this, Brooks?” McNeal rose and stalked toward them. “Do you think the shifters are evil? The demons are abominations that need to be put down?”



Cara was no abomination. She was beautiful and sensuous and she made him feel better than he’d felt in years.



Ever.



And his partner could be a bastard, but he wasn’t evil…just too furry sometimes. “I feel like a veil has been over my eyes for years, and now I’m finally seeing clearly.” He might not love everything he was seeing, but he wanted to see it all. Good. Bad.



Human. Shifter. Demon.



“There’s a lot more out there than you can imagine. A whole world of supernaturals— the Other. ” McNeal was close now. Barely two feet away. “Vampires. Do you know about them? They’re real. They can drain a human dry, kill with a bite. And the demons…you think you know about them? Do you know about the level-ten demons? The ones who can destroy buildings with a blink of their black eyes? Do you know that level-tens are practically immortal? The older they get, the harder it is to kill ’em. Hell, some can’t even be killed by mortal weapons.”



“So that makes taking them down a real bitch,” Colin added darkly.



McNeal’s words were probably meant to scare him. They didn’t. They just made him more curious. He’d been trying to block Cara from his thoughts as best he could while he talked with Smith, McNeal, and Colin about the case, but the gloves were off now. No more pretending.



They were talking about the creatures that were roaming the city right under the noses of the humans. Cara was one of those creatures. He wanted to know everything he could about this new world and about her. “What else is out there?”



Cara wasn’t a level-ten. She’d said she only had mid-range power. She could make fire. The lady had also said that she could hypnotize humans. Not him, but others.



“Oh, just about any damn thing you can imagine.” McNeal never took his gaze off him. “The nightmares that wake you up late at night, the ones that make you break out into a cold sweat—the things out there, waiting in the shadows just beyond human sight—



they’re worse than your bad dreams. A thousand times worse.”



“Djinn.” Gyth spoke softly. “Witches. Wizards—”



Instinct guided him as he faced McNeal. There was something about the guy’s voice, about the way McNeal eyeballed him. “And just what are you, Captain?”